Enforcers

So I've got a sore throat.  That wouldn't be particularly worrying in of itself (considering the incessantly cold weather and lack of heating in my house) but it's encroaching.  It's heading downwards, inexorably towards the lungs.  The only time(s) I've experienced this have ended up in great heaving lungs of mucus, the kind you don't simply clean with a cloth, but scrape off with trowels and heavy equipment.

Ironically, it came about because I was shouting particularly loudly at training (I think) which left me with a throat-of-nails to begin with.  This coupled with the weather (or my notorious hygiene) has left me in a position where I'm going to be fighting just to keep fit for the game next week.  That's the reason it's ironic, by the way.  If there was no game, there wouldn't have been training and I wouldn't be ill, chicken and egg kind of thing.  Or something.

So today has been a particularly interesting day.  One of the reta... I mean kids; went to have some kind of spaz attack.  He was clearly aiming it at a little old lady who comes into school once a week to impart knowledge unto other English teachers, and whose soul (sic) purpose is to help (she is rather dedicated).  This is obviously untoward, and I stepped in, quelled the child without saying a thing (unlike back home, these guys have the sense to realise that someone four times bigger than them can do serious damage - also unlike back home they still fear the threat of physical violence, despite not being enacted for at least half a century) and went on my merry way.  It occurred to me that this was an isolated incident (no one has the stones to actually follow through on threats, once again unlike England) but the entire school has the discipline of a gaggle of swans.  Such an apt metaphor, I feel no further explanation is necessary.  Hint - not all is well in the swarm.

I've wondered what the reason for this could be.  It's worse than England.  I leave almost every class knowing that no one learned anything.  I leave a class knowing that every kid is perfect Macdonalds fodder.  They're terminally stupid, and this is the problem with a group led mentality.  Once the group decides to be sardines, everyone gets canned equally.

In Japan, all the teachers change schools every few years.  The idea being free exchange of ideas and whatnot.  What actually happens is no one builds up a tenure long enough to build respect.  There are no enforcers in Japanese schools, so when a kid does something bad there's no recourse, no repercussion.

I find it hard to muster up even the slightest inclination to care, however, as the vast majority of the kids want to be hairdressers now (a new cartoon came out I think) so their aspirations are at least in-line with their abilities.

There's one kid who wants to be a doctor, and he might well be able to pull it off.  Good luck to him.  He's also lucky because I'm tasked with actually teaching that one, not just telling him to sit down/stop rubbing himself/stop climbing out of the third floor window, as is the case with all the other kids.

Phew!

So I've finally got my study time for the day.  I decided to update my blog to recount todays events.  (It was a typical day, so I think it's only right that I relay such information so that when I say, 'for the past few weeks it's been nothing but humdrum,' you know exactly what humdrum is.

I just found some apple tea that smells exactly like the Turkish/Greek apple tea we encountered on our last journey there.  I'm just letting it stew now.

So the day started frantically, with two early morning classes.  I was busy trying to prepare the things for the lesson, but the principal of this school wasn't having any of it.  He was too busy telling me that I shouldn't roll around the office on the wheelie chairs, because it's not professional.

Aside from the fact that I don't get paid enough to listen to mere bluster, I'm a representative of England, and I think, to a man, no Englishman can resist rolling around an office on his or her wheelie chair.

The tea tastes NOTHING like it smells.  I'm so disappointed.  I brewed a whole pot, too.  Anyone who can send me some real apple tea, the stuff that's so sweet it rots your teeth before it even comes in contact with them, will receive something Japanesey in return.

Anyway.  The first lessons' teacher really does not like me in her classroom.  We have minor power struggles every time we teach together, so today, after another embattled classroom experience, I went on the charm offensive.  I saved her about an hours work by showing her how to use the laminator properly (so the work doesn't crinkle) and chopping up the myriad papers she was laminating.  I don't know if it worked, yet; the next lesson will tell me whether I need to be even nicer or not.  To be honest, I don't know if I have that depth of kindness within me.  I have work to do too!

The next class was a bunch of tiny, tiny people.  I don't know what grade they were, but they can't have been more than five or six.

I just realised why this tea tastes odd.  It's not apple tea, as advertised - but tea with apples.  That's false advertising right there, and grounds to sue.  Or sew, as I've seen it spelled on internet forums.  ('I'm gonna sew your ass,' no, please don't.)

The second class went smoothly.  Unspectacularly, that is to say, I expect none of the kids to remember a thing next time I see them, but smoothly nonetheless.  You see, everything I say is translated into Japanese for the kids.  So why do they need to learn anything in English when the answer is right there, standing next to me?  One of the many stupidities of Japanese language learning.

So those two classes, (and one cancelled class) aside, I've been making materials (on the biggest cutter I've ever used, it cut through sixty sheets of laminated A4 in one go) and lesson plans.  Now to do some university work!

がんばります